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Class ^-^jV/cT.^^ 

Book X_51^4 

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COPYRIGHT DEPOSITS 



SONGS 

IN 



Merry Mood 



BY 

ROBERT L. PEMBERTON 



ORACLE PRESS 

ST. MARYS, WEST ViRGINIA 

1907 



L!ZRftflYofCOt«GRESs[ 
Two Cooles Rwertved 

AUG 18 1907 
Ccpyrifht Entry 

CLASS A XXC, No, 

CO FY U. 






COPYRIGHT 1907 
BY ROBT. L PEMBERTON 



TO THE MEMORY OF MY FATHER 



CONTENTS 



It Is To Lau^H 

To John S. Hall . 

Christmas Secrecy 

Saturday Evening 

Knee Deep 

Virelai 

The Choice 

The Man in the Ditch 

Boys Again 

The Woodland 

The Summer Girl 

The Common Cause 

The Teamster's Song 

Unconquered 

A Contrast 

Doctor Cupid 

Will Love Grov^ Cold? 

Recreation 

An English Primrose 

Telepathy 

An Old Timer 

Cupid's Mistake 

Reta 

We '11 Vanquish Time With 

Sunny Days 

Beauty and Sympathy 

A Boy Without a Knife 

Tommy and Jane 

Winter Sunshine 

In December 

Wishes . 

Longings 



7 
9 
II 
13 
14 
15 
17 
23 
30 
32 
33 
36 
38 
39 
40 
42 
43 
44 
46 
48 
49 
52 
53 
54 
56 
58 
59 
62 
63 
64 
65 
67 



CONTENTS- (CONTINUED) 



The Conflict 








69 


Fate 






71 


The Call of the Phone 






73 


Progress .... 








. 75 


Pessimist and Optimist 








77 


Get the Best 








. 80 


The Student 








82 


The Awakening 








. 83 


Song of the Gripped 








85 


Catching the Train 








. 87 


The Carnival . . . 








89 


Evening on the River 








. 91 


The West Virginia Banana 








92 


The Catbird 








. 94 


The Passing of Summer 








95 


The Game .... 








. 97 


A Suspension of Hostilities 








98 


The Night-Blooming Cereus . 








. 103 


Peace .... 








104 


While Silver Clinks 








. 105 


The Soul's Release . 








106 


Cordelia .... 








. 107 


November 








108 


A Valentine 








. 109 


Courage! 








no 


Jack Kirby's Coon 








. Ill 


Rubaiyat of the Turkey 








122 


Nimrod .... 








. 125 


Preserved Sunshine 








126 


A Fantasy .... 


. 




. 127 


Nothing in Vain 








128 



IT IS TO LAUGH 

GRANT me, O Muse, the power to sing 
The simpler songs of life, 
To cheer the heart distressed, and bring 
The soul away from strife ; 
To move humanity to quaff 
The nectar of a childish laugh. 

I ask not for the royal gift 
Of epics sung to kings ; 
Nor yet the bristling mane to lift 
By sounding martial strings — 
*Twere cowardly to stand afar 
And urge one's brothers on to war. 

Nor yet the sorrowful refrain 

That draws the glistening tear ; 
The rankling of some ancient pain, 
The waking up of fear ; 

It were a churlish thing to do — 
To give the sky a darker hue. 



IT IS TO LAUGH 



Light-hearted as the happy bird 
Now singing on that bough ; 
A jest, a smile, a cheery word — 
This gift to me allow ; 

Word-pharmaceutist, if you will, 
To sugar-coat a harmless pill. 

rd rather have the world to smile 

Than look with sober eye ; 
Grant me the gift to cure the bile. 
To quash the mournful sigh. 

To strike the lighter strings of mirth 
And make a pleasant place of earth ! 



TO JOHN S. HALL 



TO JOHN S. HALL 

TV^ ORE than a score of winters, John, 
i V Have come and passed away 

Since first we knew our friendship true. 

One blust'ry winter day ; 
And calling up the hours we've spent 

In argument together. 
It seems as if they were besprent 

With that same blust'ry weather. 

With heads hot as the coal-fire, John, 

By which we loved to sit. 
Yet bitter word was never heard. 

And never heart was hit ; 
Our fancies, sometimes spun out fine. 

Swept freely as the gale ; 
You ve held your own, and I ve held mine, 

In argument and tale. 

We 've sat until cock-crowing, John, 

In many a stubborn fight. 
You holding strong you were not wrong, 

And I sure I was right; 



10 TO JOHN S. HALL 

The blue smoke rolled above our heads 

As on a battle field, 
And fighting still, we sought our beds, 

For neither point would yield. 

And such should friendship be, John — 

A tether not too tight, 
So both may feed where they have need 

And question neither's right ; 
So both can meet oi common ground. 

Yet each may go his way ; 
And that's the friendship that we found 

Upon that blust'ry day. 



CHRISTMAS SECRECY 



CHRISTMAS SECRECY 

ALL our folks is actm' queer 
Now that Christmas 'most is here, 
Dodgin' here an' hidin' there — 
Lots of mist'ry in the air. 

Pop slips slyly in the house, 
Jes' as quiet as a mouse, 
Goes upstairs with cat-Lke tread. 
Hides a box beneath the bed. 
Then comes down a-lookin' calm — 
Innercent as any lamb. 

Mam she comes up from the store. 
Then stays watchin' at the door. 
Till the 'livery wagon brings 
To the house a lot o' things; 
Then she hides 'em safe an' sound, 
Som'ers where they can't be found. 

Sis does like the grown-ups do — 
She is hidin' somethin' too ; 
Workin' things in yarn, you know ; 
Mebbe slippers for her beau. 
For she sings an' looks so gay — 
Never minds the cKaff I say. 



12 CHRISTMAS SECRECY 



An' I'm hidin', like the rest, 
Somethin' down behind the chest. 
Don't want Pop to find it yet — 
Least, till Santy's come, you bet ! 
Guess what's down behind the chest ? 
Well, you never would 'ave guessed ! 
Pop's silk hat ! He left it there, 
Settin' on a parlor chair. 
When I went to set down, too. 
Gee ! I thought I's goin' through ! 
That hat was an awful sight ! 
Tried my best to make it right. 
But I couldn't smooth a crook ! 
'T had a concertina look. 
So I folded it up tight, 
An' I hid it out o' sight. 

Pop will be surprised when he 
Finds that hat —He '11 give it me ! 
Gee, but things is awful blue. 
An' it's almost Christmas, too ! 
Lot's o' myst'ry in the air — 
Secrets round me everywhere. 
An' you bet, I've got my share ! 



SATURDAY EVENING 13 



SATURDAY EVENING 

I GO down town on Sat'day night, 
With wife an' children three, 
When all the shops is shinin' bright. 
An' there is lots to see ; 
It's jest like walkin' through a fair, 
So many pretty things is there. 
An' people throngin' everywhere, 
On Sat'day, after tea. 

An' I am happy as a king. 

As happy as can be. 
For in my pocket dollars ring, 

An' all belong to me — 
To me an' to my good wife true. 
The children own a portion, too. 
An' so we are a jolly crew. 

On Sat'day, after tea. 

To toy shop an' to candy store 

We have a silver key ; 
An' every merchant swings his door 

So we can enter free ; 
An' all the men of every land 
Have put their goods at our command, 
An' that's why we're a happy band. 

On Sat'day, after tea. 



14 KNEE DEEP 



KNEE DEEP 

THE sunbeams were cheery, the atmosphere 
warm, 
And slumbering froggies awoke to the charm ; 
Their very tails tingling with fresh, pulsing blood, 
They struggled and broke through the thick bonds 

of mud 
And took their first bath, after long winter's sleep ; 
Their voices hilarious. 
In notes somewhat various, 
Declared that the water was only knee deep ! 

"Knee deep ! Knee deep ! Knee deep ! 
It's fine to wake up from your sleep 

And find that it's Spring ! 

And that's why we sing 
In water that's only knee deep !" 

But lo ! From the north came a great cloud of 

snow 
That scattered its burden quite thickly below ; 
And back came Jack Frost with a grin on his face, 
And over the swamp began froggies to chase ! 



VIRELAI 15 



The poor little songsters, too chilly to creep 

Lay huddled and shivering, 

Yet still, in notes quivering. 
Declared that the snow would be only knee deep ! 

"Knee deep ! Knee deep ! Knee deep !" 
But down came the flakes in a heap. 

And far, far below, 

All covered with snow. 
They're dreaming it's only knee deep ! 



VIRELAI 

I MET when sad — 
Stung by the gad 
Of Care, and mad 
With weariness, 
A maid in plaid. 
Who flowers had, 
And she was glad 
To joyfulness. 

With sweet caress 
To me did press 
And made confess 

The flowers were fair 



16 VIRELAI 



Her cheerfulness 
Drove out Distress 
And gave egress 

To carking Care. 

Novv^ grim Despair 
No longer dare 
My bosom share, 

For she is Qyeen ; 
And she vv^ill vv^ear, 
Bound in her hair, 
Carnations rare 

As e'er were seen. 

So in the sheen 
Of skies serene. 
The soul may wean 

Itself from dread ; 
And Love may glean 
The harvests clean. 
Where sickles keen 

Missed many a head. 



THE CHOICE 17 



THE CHOICE 

ONE summer morn, when Nature's various parts 
Vied in their powers to please, forth from 
the marts 
Into the quiet woods, young Edwin strode, 
Hoping to find the peace that there abode. 
To lose himself a moment from the strife, 
To cool the fever of an ardent life. 

Crossing a meadow where a brooklet played 
At hide and seek in fringing willows' shade, 
A time, with hat in hand, he walked the bank, 
The while his very soul of Nature drank : 
For never had the earth such beauty borne 
As he beheld upon that summer morn. 

Then, coming to a spot of richer green. 
Where served a glossy haw-bush for a screen. 
Full length upon the grass he idly lay, 
And yielded wholly unio Nature's sway. 
The varied voices of inquiring birds. 
The hun of bees, like murmured, half-spoke words, 
The tinkling of the brooklet's wee cascade. 
The rustle of the leaves by zephyr swayed — 



18 THE CHOICE 



With these soft sounds the genie of the stream 
On the recumbent youth did gently creep. 
And bore him captive to the realm of sleep, 

Where there befel him this prophetic dream : 

Before him lay a lake — a shining sheet 
Of highly polished silver, which did meet 
Its verdant marge unbroken by a wave ; 
If life it had, no sign of life it gave. 
Upon its bosom lay an islet green. 
Whence sweetly called the voice of one unseen, 
Bidding him come ; without a thought or care, 
Impelled as by an essence wondrous rare. 
He forward ran, the lucid lake to try. 
When, lo ! a boat upon the edge did lie, 
hi silken sail well set ; its curved prow 
Adorned with jewels that would grace the brow 
Oi fairest queen ; the bulwarks edged with gold ; 
And at the helm, a steersman, bearded, old. 

Into the bark he leaped. "O Helmsman, guide 
Thy golden boat across this silver tide 
Unto yon islet's shore !" Whereat the sail 
Was filled, the bow was turned, and soon a trail 
Of snowy bubbles marked the arrowy flight. 
Dancing, like spirits freed, with wild delight. 

Unto the silent Helmsman Edwin turned : 
"If thou aught of this mystery hath learned. 
And knowing, may'st disclose, I pray thee, tell 
What unknown creatures on that islet dwell, 



THE CHOICE 19 



And why they call me thither? For I feel 
Upon this voyage hangs my woe or weal." 
Then parting with his hand the hoary beard 
That screened his lips, thus answered he who 
steered: 

"I may not tell thee all, O gentle youth. 
But thus much may I hazard : In good sooth, 
On yonder islet are man's virtues weighed, 
And by their worth his destiny is made." 
Thus having spoken, on the farther shore 
He fixed his gaze, nor would he utter more. 
So motionless he sat, it seemed as he 
Were portion of the boat, carved by some free 
And daring hand, that gave him ease and strength. 
But left him without soul ; and when at length 
The light keel grated on the island's strand 
His features changed not. Edwin to the sand 
Leaped quickly, and as quickly turned to lend 
A helping hand unto his aged friend. 
To moor the craft, or start it out anew — 
But lo ! both man and boat had gone from view ! 

Much marveling on this, some time he stood 
In fixed abstraction, till his musing mood 
Was broken by the Voice, giving command 
To hasten ; so he crossed the little strand 
To thread the shady grove ; but vine and tree 
Were thickly woven ; he could even see. 
While vainly looking for an opening. 
Buds bursting into shoots, and green shoots spring 



20 THE CHOICE 



Into great limbs, and tender vines grow old, 
As if a score of years had o'er them rolled. 

Again the strange Voice called, but fainter now ; 
He heard, and with a frown upon his brow 
He forward leaped, outstretching knotted arms 
To force an entrance spite of spells or charms. 
But ere his hand could touch the foremost spray, 
The thick growth parted, and before him lay 
A path as clear and fresh as new-mown mead. 
On which he strode, his heart from trouble freed, 
And gaily beating time unto the song 
That issued from the throats of feathered throng. 

Some distance walked he, till anon the lane 
With widening vista broke upon a plain. 
In which there stood a castle, grim and gray, 
Stout-walled and turreted, while round it lay 
A brimming moat ; and from its topmost tower 
A gilded banner spoke of pomp and power. 

And as, astonished, he did stand and stare, 
For little had he thought of castle there 
In midst of such an Eden, came the sound 
Of creaking chains that on a windlass wound ; 
The barred portcullis swung to greatest height. 
And o'er the bridge rode forth a full-armed knight. 
His visor down, his ponderous lance firm held, 
Straight to the youth his charger he compelled ; 
No word he gave, no trumpet's waming blare, 
But sought to take his foe all unaware. 



THE CHOICE 21 



With paling lips, but stern-contracted brow, 
Young Edwin drew his sword, resolved that now, 
Let hap what might, the odds however great. 
With courage he would meet his coming fate : 
Yet murmured he a prayer unto his Lord 
For strength of arm to wield the ready sword. 
But scarcely had he placed himself on guard, 
When horse and rider dropped upon the sward! 
Amazed, the youth sprang forward to his foe. 
And straight unclasped his helm, anxious to know 
What hurt he had, and give him help, if need : 
For still his tender heart for foes could bleed. 
A ghastly face he saw, as if 't had lain 
In burial vault, all covered with the stain 
Of damp and death ; drawn out of human form. 
And only fit for the destroying worm ; 
And while he looked, the hollows deeper wore. 
The visage shrank, and soon it was no more ! 

While wondering yet upon this strange event. 
He rose, and towards the lordly castle went; 
But now there c£ime weird noises all around, 
Like myriad locusts, or continuous sound 
Of mighty cataract, and through it all 
Shrill, threatening voices seemed his name to call. 
All suddenly the light of day died out ; 
He felt winged creatures, as they flew about. 
Brush in his face ; around his stumbling feet 
He felt the clammy coils of serpents meet ; 
And terror almost siezed him, when once more 
He heard that clear Voice calling as before ; 



22 THE CHOICE 



And though the imps within that hellish throng 
Caught up the cry and mimicked it, yet strong 
Became his heart, and gasping a reply. 
He clinched his hands, and strode on manfully. 
Then was the veil of utter darkness torn, 
As sunbeams dissipate the mists of morn 
And show a brighter blue, a richer green ; 
Nor loathsome fowl nor reptile could be seen. 

After the horrors of that sudden night 
The living meadows were a pleasant sight, 
And with a love he never knew before. 

Though oft enjoying Nature's carnival. 
He heard the birds their melodies outpour, 

And insects from the leafy coverts call. 

Then, while his heart was still in pleasant mood. 
Entranced, before the castle gate he stood ; 
Yet seemed it not the building he had seen 
When first he left the forest, for the sheen 
Of purest alabaster on it lay. 
Instead of the forbidding, gloomy gray ; 
And in its portal, with a smiling face. 
Stood one who was th ' embodiment of grace. 

"Welcome, brave youth," she said, and in her 
voice 
Was that which makes the soul of man rejoice — 
Inimitable, holy ring of truth — 
"A hearty welcome to my home, brave youth ! 
I am thy Genius, and since thy first cry 
My pleasant lot has been to hover nigh 



THE CHOICE 23 



And mark thy steady growth, and gently lead 
Thy earnest spirit on, from deed to deed, 
Through childhood and through youth, till now 

thou art 
Come to the point where thou must choose thy part. 
I've seen thee strive to pierce, like ancient seers. 
The mystic veil that hides the future years, 
But have, with loving care, withheld from thee 
That power to gaze into futurity. 
Until by tests I knew the hour at hand ; 
But now, thou 'rt ripe — thy soul can understand. 
I've tested thee, as one tries gold before 
Adorning it with jewels ; and the door 
That opens on thy future now is free 
To swing back on its hinges. Follow me." 

And so into a hall she led the way 
Where music soft unceasingly did play 
And made the hearing captive ; and the air 
Was laden with the fragrance breezes bear 
From sweet oasis in a desert land, 
Refreshing and inspiring ; on a stand 
Of polished onyx lay a crystal sphere, 
Outrivaling the dew, so purely clear. 
To this the spirit led, then to him turned : 
"The hour hath come for which thy soul so yearned ! 
The future now is thine, and thou may'st look 
And make thy choice." 

And as it were a bock 
He read the crystal's depths : "I see my home ! 
There are the fields, the hills I love to roam ; 



24 THE CHOICE 



The pleasant woods, the purling brook, are there ; 

A scene of calm content, without a care ! 

I see a child — a full-faced, laughing boy, 

Whose only thought is of his present joy : 

His little round of life not yet become 

A beaten path, with scenery wearisome. 

The picture changes : Now the lad is grown 

To lusty manhood, strong of flesh and bone. 

And ripening like the fields that are his pride ; 

Beloved, revered by all the country side. 

His heart is kindly, and by him the poor 

Are helped, their sufferings better to endure ; 

In counsel wise and in conviction strong, 

Heaven hath endowed him well. He goes along 

His chosen way like steamship o'er the sea. 

Heedless of wind and wave, straight to its quay. 

Beyond all flattery or pompous pride. 

No power he claims, yet none to him 's denied. 

So in strong manhood is he loved, and now 

When hoary age plows furrows in his brow, 

I see him honored. To the waiting grave 

He grandly goes — not as a writhing slave 

To meet an angry Master — but as one 

Who feels his work in life hath been well done. 

Forgotten soon of men, yet throughout time 

The life he lived will bear its fruit sublime. 

"The play is o'er ! And so my life must be 
A life of peace — of gentle husbandry ! 
'Tis not as I had hoped, for in my heart 
1 Icnged to play a more ambitious part." 



THE CHOICE 25 



"Look yet again !" the Spirit to him said. 
The youth obeyed, and as the shadow fled : 
"Again," he cried, "my childhood's home I see, 
Just as before — each field and hill and tree. 
The happy lad, the farm house — all the same. 
Now comes a change : Behold ! Ambition's flame 
Hath kindled fires within the young man's breast. 
And all his soul 's aglow with anxious quest 
For certain honors; with a careless hand 
He guides the plow along the portioned land. 
Useless such toil for him who sorely grieves ! 
And wisely now the ill-kept farm he leaves 
To seek the city, where, among his kind, 
Responsive throbbings of the heart he'll find. 

"By night and day he works ; his hot brain teems 
With plans for fame, with ever-dazzling schemes. 
He studies men and methods, till at last 
He reaps the harvest of the seed long cast : 
His words are strong ; men give him their belief ; 
They shout, rejoice ! They hail him as their chief ! 
Now is he lifted up among the great — 
Another prophet come to save the State ! 
His very nod is law ; around him throng 
The suppliants who feed upon the strong, 
Who suck the life-blood of successful men 
And are the first to scurry from them, when 
Their waning strength betokens that the hour 
Is near at hand when they shall lose their power. 
But yet this man hath used dominion well. 
Upbuilding and uplifting; many tell 



26 THE CHOICE 



How kind his heart, how tender is his love ; 
Although as difficult it were to move 
The dread tornado from its destined path 
As turn aside this man when in his wrath. 
So, foes he hath ; the men of selfish aim, 
Who strive for factional success, to claim 
Munificent rewards ; whose only care 
Amid success, is for their shameless share ; 
And them, contemning, he would sweep away ; 
But they, like wolves forced from expected prey, 
With hated filled, go snarling to and fro. 
Inciting others to attack their foe. 

"And now, behold the end ! This man of 
power. 
Like all the rest, must have his final hour, 
Must yield to mighty death ! Around him now 
His followers, in grief sincerest, bow. 
And as the long procession marches on. 
The world laments a noble soul that s gone ! 

"This, then, is masterful Ambition's end ! 
And yet the humbler life of him unkenned 
Is net so different — a change of sphere, 
And that is all. If one 's good deeds appear 
So much the greater, so his deeds of ill 
Proportionately grow ; the sterner will 
Hath wider scope in which to work its way. 
Yet bound by laws that govern common clay. 

"Bright Spirit ! If it be for me to make 
This day my choice, the humbler lot I take. 



THE CHOICE 27 



Content to follow, anxious not to lead, 
Yer ever ready for my country's need." 

The Spirit sweetly smiled ; upon his brow 
She laid her hand, and said : "I knew that thou, 
Whom I have studied since thy natal hour, 
Would'st rightly weigh the worth of place and 

power. 
Well hast thou chosen, and thy life shall be 
A fount of joy, exhaustless as the sea. 
Whereof thy friends shall drink, and bless thy 

choice." 
And hearing yet the echo of her voice, 
The youth awoke, and all the world was fair 
With peace and love, and joy was everywhere. 



28 THE MAN IN THE DITCH 



THE MAN IN THE DITCH 

HAVE you ever watched the navvy as he 
wielded pick and spade? 
Have you ever thought you 'd like to learn 
the navvy's heavy trade? 
But if you or I should try it, I 'm afraid there 'd 

be a botch ; 
Something fascinating in it, though, or none would 

stop to watch. 
Yet while standing idly watching him, one learns 

a lesson, which 
May be classified as "Moral of the Man Down in 
the Ditch." 

Just observe him lift his pick up — not with any 

hasty jerk. 
But so easy and so careful — oh, the man knows 

how to work ! 
And he brings it down so nicely — see, he doesn't 

try to tear 
Dewey Avenue to pieces every time he splits the 

air; 
But a little here he scratches, and a little there he 

scrapes. 
And with almost gentle touches on the sides, the 

trench he shapes. 



THE MAN IN THE DITCH 29 

He begins in early morning and he keeps it up all 

day; 
When his back is tired, he stretches ; but he 's in 

the trench to stay 
Till the job is all completed, and he sticks unto 

the end. 
When his labor is rewarded and he gets his brass 

to spend. 
But if you or I had tried it, we *d have hustled up 

the work. 
And some fifteen minutes later we 'd have sought 

"a chance to shirk. 

Now, the moral of the lesson is quite plain to 

every one — 
He who always does his utmost doesn 't get the 

most work done ; 
It is "steady does it" always, and the man who 

knows the rule. 
Yet refuses to apply it is no better than a fool. 
In her temple Fame has filled up many a pleasant 

little niche 
With the busts of men who've labored like the 

man- down in the ditch. 



30 BOYS AGAIN 



BOYS AGAIN 

I'T^WAS good to roam the woodlands, 

JL When the days were fine and warm, 
Because each nook and hollow 

Held a never-failing charm ; 
The crane-bill grows in thickets, 

And among the mossy rocks 
The wild pink blooms its brightest. 

High above the scented phlox; 
Bright buttercups here flourish, 

And upon those grassy banks 
The fighting johnny-jump-ups 

Stand in closely crowded ranks. 
But we forget the rambles 

And the haunts we used to know. 
When gently from the heavens 

Ccmes the first good fall of snow. 

The whirling, swirling snowdrops, 
From their mystic source on high, 

Come hurrying and scurrying. 
Till soft and deep they lie ; 



BOYS AGAIN 31 



And there is fun for everyone, 

For lads cind lasses, too. 
Away with fears ! Shake off your years ! 

Let 's join the merry crew ! 

When summer day was pleasant 

And the breeze was from the south, 
*Twas fine to hold a cricket 

Just before a gaping mouth ; 
Or, if the fish refused it. 

And the water not too cool, 
There was ecstatic pleasure 

Plunging in the limpid pool ; 
Or with a bunch of willows. 

Making bower as well as sail. 
To cleave the foamy billows 

Like a pirate in a gale. 
But we forget the fishing 

And the winds that gently blow. 
When through December's crispness 

Comes the first good fall of snow. 

The agile; fragile snowdrops 

Bring a pleasure in their flight ; 
And shimmering and glimmering 

With tremulous delight. 
Invite us all to carnival 

Of Winter 's merry play. 
Hurrah for snow ! With cheeks aglow, 

We 're boys again today ! 



32 THE WOODLAND 



THE WOODLAND 

WITH rod and with gun we '11 away from 
the sound 
Of city to wild solitude, 
Where joy 's to be found in perpetual round, 
And life to the dying 's renewed. 

The breath of the woods is as joyous as wine, 

And lifteth the heart above care ; 
No perfume so fine as the scent of the pine 

When borne on the free forest air. 

We'll break through the shams and the shallow 
pretense 

Veneering the civilized man ; 
In forests immense, where the shadows are dense, 

We '11 live as when life first began. 

Hurrah for the life of the forester bold ! 

Hurrah for the forester free ! 
With heart uncontrolled by the fever of gold, 

The life of the woodsman for me ! 



THE SUMMER GIRL 33 



THE SUMMER GIRL 

THERE were three men, and they were young, 
With stylish clothes and glib of tongue. 
And as upon the porch they sat, 
Engaged with pipes and idle chat. 
The one called Billiam spoke and told 
The tale that never groweth old : 

"Twas in the first half of July 

That I took my vacation ; 
I thought this year that I would try 

A quiet seaside station. 

"There was a score of maidens fair ; 

Of course it was my inning : 
I chose the prettiest damsel there — 

And that was the beginning. 

"Soon on the white and glistening sand 

We learned to lonely linger ; 
And ere I left, a golden band 

I placed upon her finger." 

So saying, Billiam smiled the smile 

Of one who 's said what 's worth the while, 



34 THE SUiMMER GIRL 

And as aram he blew the smoke, 
'Twas thus that gentle Porgie spoke : 

"It was in August, don 't you know, 

I went up in the mountains. 
To build my health up from the flow 

Of nasty sm.elling fountains. 

"While there I met the finest girl 

That ever I set eyes on : 
She floated in the dizzy whirl ; 

You bet she had no flies on. 

"I didn 't have a heap of cash. 

But still I didn 't waver ; 
And, boys, you ought to see her flash 

The diamond ring I gave her !" 

And Porgie puffed with calm delight, 
Because his conscience was all right ; 
And then up spake young Samivel — 
Here is the tale that he did tell : 

"You know I 've just ccme from the Fair, 
Where girls are gathered thickly ; 

Selecting one with golden hair, 
I fell in love right quickly. 

"I took her up the Alpine heights, 

I took her to Creation ; 
In short, I showed her all the sights, 

Though costing like tarnation. 



THE SUMMER GIRL 35 

"She has my heart, she has my ring, 

But yet she 's mine in toto ; 
And now, to prove she 's just the thine', 

Behold ! Here is her photo !" 

And Billiam looked, and Porgie, too, 
And — well, you see. it wouldn 't do 
For me to tell just what they said, 
Because that was the girl who led 
Young Billiam on the glistening strand, 
And Porgie in that mountain land. 



35 THE COMMON CAUSE 



THE COMMON CAUSE 

AWAY with that ignoble thought 
Of jealousy in creed ; 
Your nanow mind seems only fraught 
With odds and ends by most forgot ; 
Your cry is, "See the weed !" 

One weed does not a garden spoil, 

Nor errors kill a friend ; 
Accept the pleasure with the toil ; 
Smooth out life's troubled sea with oil ; 

To all some grace extend. 

Behold ! last week the corner stone 

Of this new church was laid ; 
By whom was most devotion shown? 
By members of this church alone 

Was interest displayed? 

No ; to this spot the people came, 

No matter what their creed ; 
They thought not of a church 's name ; 
They sought not for sectarian fame ; 

They cared not whose the deed. 



THE COMMON CAUSE 37 

Denominations all agreed 

To join the common cause ; 
To bid the holy work godspeed ; 
To give their help in time of need, 

Nor recked of selfish laws. 

When goodly deeds are to be done 

There 's no sectarian hate ; 
All human natures are as one — 
As rivers from far sources run 

To make the ocean great. 

Away with thought of strife among 

The followers of the Lord ! 
Rememb 'ring that when bells are rung 
No matter in what steeple hung, 

Hearts beat in common chord. 



38 THE TEAMSTER'S SONG 



THE TEAMSTER 'S SONG 

THE dust is thick and the road is long ; 
The sun has a thousand stings ; 
The wagon's creak gives a tune to his song 
And thus the teamster sings : 

"Git ep, thar, Charley ! Jim, wake up ! 

The hours are passin ' by ; 
Down thar by the gate the children wait, 

An ' the wife with the tender eye." 

And in and out on the ridge of the hill 

The yellow highway winds ; 
The dust is fine as the grist, but still 

The creaking wagon grinds. 

"Gee haw, thar, Charley ! Git ep, Jim ! 

My lips are parched an ' dry ; 
I want to sup from the old tin cup. 

With wife and children nigh." 

The fragrance cf the pines is good. 

And rich is the meadow green ; 
And near the stream in the edge of wood, 

A cottage soon is seen. 

"Now, whca, old Charley! Whca, old Jim! 

You 're not for passin ' by ? 
The kids are here with laughin ' cheer. 

An ' the wife with the tender eye." 



UNCONQUERED 39 



UNCONQUERED 

WHEN the ice upon the crick 
Is about two inches thick, 
An ' you hear Jack Frost a-crackin 
on the walls, 
Billy tumbles inter bed. 
An ' his happy little head 
Dreams o ' skates an ' figger eights an ' shinny balls. 

But when Monday mornin *s come, 

Then our Billy he looks glum, 
Fer the snow is jest a-pilin * on the ground ; 

It 's enough to make him sick, 

Fer he knows the ice is slick. 
An ' no more sich ice may come the winter round. 

But does Billy moan an ' pout? 

No ; he gits his ol ' sled out 
An ' he whoops an ' hollers as he runs along ; 

Fer it 's alius been our plan 

Jest to Tarn our little man 
Fer to make the best o ' things that *s goin ' wrong. 

An ' I alius do maintain 

It would save us lots o ' pain 
If we 'd all adopt a rule o ' that ' ere kind ; 

No use puUin ' with a load 

Up a rough an ' rocky road. 
When there is a better road that you can find. 



40 A CONTRAST 



5 



A CONTRAST 

"What are little girls made of? 
Sugar and spice 
And everything nice — 
That's what little girls are made of." 

— Old Rhyme. 

WEET little maidens of long, long ago, 
Tenderly guarded from sunshine and rain, 
Dreading as shameful a fine, healthy glow. 
Looking on freckles and tan with disdain ; 

Sweet little creatures of "sugar and spice," 
Showers of April would melt you away ; 

Sweet little compounds of "everything nice," 
Sunbeams of August would dry you like hay ; 

Painting pink horses in pastures of blue ; 

Taught to move quietly, slow and demure, 
Sitting for hours like a nun in a pew. 

Sad was the life that you led, to be sure. 

Up-to-date maidens have altered all that ; 

Fearing no weather, they go where they wish, 
Brave the hot sunbeams without any hat. 

Dash through a rainstorm as happy as fish. 



A CONTRAST 41 

Listless and languid no longer they are : 
Out in the world they are taking a part — 

Special reporters describing the war ; 
Traveling lecturers talking on art ; 

Up in the pilot house turning the wheel ; 

Managing business concerns with a vim ; 
Pushing through Wall street a vigorous deal ; 

Practicing medicine, setting a limb. 

Such are the maidens that live in this day, 
Yet just as sweet as the maidens of old ; 

Probably spicier, too, in their way, 

Certainly worthy their weight in pure gold. 



42 DOCTOR CUPID 



DOCTOR CUPID 

LOVE has brought a deal of trouble 
To this world of ours ; 
Yet, who minds a little stubble, 
Gathering field flowers? 

Just because Dan Cupid 's arrow 

Gives a pretty smart, 
Do not make the gateway narrow 

Leading to your heart. 

Cupid 's arrows, shot at random, 

(For the fellow 's blind,) 
Hearts arranged in proper tandem 

Sometimes fail to find. 

Here a maid may sadly languish. 

Moaning for a mate ; 
There a swain may suffer anguish 

At untoward fate. 

But the cause of all this sickness 

Is itself the cure. 
Almost startling in its quickness, — 

Never-failing, sure. 

Homeopathist is Cupid ; 

"Like for like !" his cry ; 
Only those perversely stupid 

Scorn the dose and die. 



WILL LOVE GROW COLD 43 



WILL LOVE GROW COLD 

WILL love grow cold 
As we grow old? 
Oh, no! Oh, no! 
For love that's pure 
Will yet endure 

And keep the heart aglow. 

Will time efface 
All pleasure s trace? 

Oh, no! Oh, no! 
The pleasures passed 
Did but forecast 

The pleasures we 're to know. 

Will sorrow spare? 
And grief? and care? 

Oh, no! Oh, no! 
But love will live — 
And love will give 

New strength to meet the foe. 



44 RECREATION 



RECREATION 

WHEN we tire of fighting battles in the 
ceaseless war of life, 
And the brain calls for sedatives till it's 
fit again for strife, 
Odd enough we turn to novels, for the peace that 

they afford — 
For they 're full of business tangles, booming gun 

and whistling sword. 
The adventures of the hero keep us in a perfect 

whirl. 
Wondering whether he '11 die early, or will marry 
his best girl. 

He is caught in tightest places ; he is under direst 
ban; 

Some foul crime has been committed, and he 
surely is the man ; 

Cool detectives piece around him chain of evi- 
dence complete ; 

Even she who loves him dearly half believes he is 
a cheat. 

Will he make a frank confession, and, with 
pledges to reform, 

Be received with open arms again and sheltered 
from the storm? 



RECREATION 45 



Or with her he loves so madly will he seek a for- 
eign clime, 
There to lead a life of honor and to make amends 

for crime? 
Not a bit of it ! The hero, like a surgeon true 

and wise 
Waiting for a boil to ripen, ere the lancet keen he 

tries. 
Lets his troubles get together, till he 's hidden in 

the pile ; 
Then he gives his explanation — Puff! Let 

everybody smile ! 
For the hero is a hero, and the villain is betrayed, 
And the happiest little lady is the hero's little 

maid. 

Yes, there 's rest and recreation in the novels that 

we read 
When we tire of fighting battles ; for we all of us 

have need 
Of reflecting that our troubles, though they seem 

o'erwhelming great. 
Might have been a great deal greater, were it not 

for kindly Fate. 

How severely you 'd have suffered, had it been 
your awful lot 

To be bom a Chinese baby or a coal-black Hot- 
tentot ! 

And it 's nice to think, moreover, (though perhaps 
it is not kind) 



46 AN ENGLISH PRIMROSE 

That however much we suffer in this life of daily 

grind. 
There are hundreds, thousands, millions, both at 

home and o 'er the sea, 
Who endure unnumbered hardships, and who 

suffer more than we. 



AN ENGLISH PRIMROSE 

A PRIMROSE from Old England, eh? A 
message from the East, 
To gladder make this happy morn and grace 
an Easter feast ! 
Although our own sweet woodland flowers, more 

beautiful, invite 
Our love and admiration, ever giving us delight, 
Yet this one is from England — from that land 

across the sea, 
And, oh ! the thoughts are pleasant that it brings 
to you and me ! 

To you — remembrance of the past — of child- 
hood 's happy hours — 

Life's springtime in the pleasant fieHs adorned 
with golden flowers; 

The nosegays and the garlands woven in the 
hawthorn *s shade, 



AN ENGLISH PRIMROSE 47 



The chime of bells from distant towers, the village 

through the glade ; 
The kith and kin that m.ade your world ere you 

began to roam ; 
The fragrance and the essence of the dear old 

place called "Home." 

To me — a dim tradition, like a vista in a dream. 
Illuminated here and there by some famt, fitful 

gleam ; 
The birthplace of our freedom, and the place 

whence heroes sprung, 
Where poets learned to touch the lyre and to the 

new world sung ; 
And now to me this primrose brings the scent of 

those old days, 
And calls to life the swinging lines of good old 

English lays. 

And like a hand across the sea, this primrose 

comes to claim 
Again the kinship of the race — the glories of the 

name. 
The comm.on cause of common blood, of freedom 

and of law. 
Achievements of a mighty race that fills the world 

with awe. 
The other day that yellow cup held drops of 

English dew, 
And England, looking o 'er the sea, drank "Here 's 

a health to you." 



48 TELEPATHY 



TELEPATHY 

WHEN Lizzie crinkles up her hair 
And ties her bows with greatest care, 
She 's warned by something in the air 
That Johnny Sparker will be there — 
Now, that 's telepathy ! 

When Willie, on his way from school, 
Goes paddling in a muddy pool. 
He feels somehow, he s played the fool, 
And dreads his m.other's paddling rule — 
And that 's telepathy ! 

When Jones, who once his full name wrote 
For friendship's sake on Jimson's note. 
Gets news that Jimscn 's cut his threat. 
And feels he has not left a groat, — 
Well, that 's telepathy ! 

When Bilkins at the club stays late, 
And wobbles home with muddled pate. 
Attempting to appear sedate 
Before he meets his anxious mate — 
Well, that 's telepathy ! 

When Jinks's home is in a rout, 
Soapsuds are in and meat is out, 
With not a tidy place about. 
And Jinks brings Binks to dine — I doubt 
If that 's telepathy ! 



THE OLD TIMER 49 



AN OLD-TIMER 

1 7V1 O^^ ^"^y ^^^ ^^" teach, (the old man said) 
Ji V All that it takes is jest a level head, 

An ' no great stock o ' 1 'amin ' or o ' wit ; 
The most a body needs is lots o ' grit, 
An ' muscle, too, to back up what you say. 
To hire a weak-backed person doesn 't pay. 
I 've went ter school myself when I 's a kid 
An ' know jest how some things ought ter be did. 

The fust thing needed on the openin ' day, 
To keep the kids from cuttin ' up too gay. 
Is jest a bunch o ' withes — say birch, they 're best. 
They 're windin ' like an ' hot, an ' stand the test. 
An' then the teacher, who should be about 
Six foot or more, an ' built accordin ' — stout — 
Though size, I 'low, don 't alius count fur much, 
Purvided that he 's quick of eye and touch — 
The teacher then, I says, gits up an' lays 
The rules right down, an ' them ' at discbeys 
Will see by them ' ere withes jest what they '11 

ketch. 
An ' that there '11 be no monkeyshines cr sech. 
An ' everyone must git right down to work, 
An ' woe to idlers that will try to shirk ! 
Then out with spellin ' book or 'rithmetic. 
An ' school commences right off, mighty quick. 



50 THE OLD TIMER 

An' say, right here I want to say as how 
I've got no use fur what they're teachin' now 
'Bout physiography an' all that stuff ; 
Lam 'em to read an' cipher — that s enough ! 
That's all the eddycation they give me, 
An' I ve done purty well, as all can see — 
There hain't no farm around as good as mine, 
An' I have raised a family of nine. 

No, sir ! Now, let me tell you — fling away 
Most all the books you 're botherin' with today. 
An' I'am 'em how to figger an' to read — 
Jest keep 'em down to things they reelly need, 
An' withe 'em hard each time you see 'em fool. 
An' then you '11 have a good, old-fashioned school. 

Now, lemme tell you what I seen last spring — 

It was the most disgraceful, shameful thing ! 

As I was on that pi nt, a cuttin' brush, 

Hyer comes a let o' children in a rush. 

All whoopin', howlin', yellin' like they 's mad. 

An' arter 'em the teaches, with a gad. 

By jocks ! says I, them kids is broken loose 

An' teacher 's arter 'em. as sure 's the deuce ! 

So on they come, an' ripped and roared an* 

cheered, 
An' didn 't seem to be the least bit skeered. 
Now, that 's your woman teacher ! Kids run off ! 
An' when she calls 'em, they just yell an ' scoff ! 
But I'm a school trustee, an' so, says I, 
I can 't allow these things when I 'm close by, 



THE OLD TIMER 51 



So down I throws my ax, an ' makes a leap, 
An ' ketches two, that bleat jest like a sheep. 

"See hyer," says I, "this kind o ' work won 't do ! 
I '11 see 't your teacher puts you fellers through. 
An' if she can 't I '11 help her. No back talk ! 
Or else I 11 wallop you so you can t walk !" 
With that I yanks 'em back to where she stood ; 
She had ketched one — the littlest o ' the brood. 
"Hyer 's two of 'em," says I, "both omry chaps, 
That ought to have a dose o' well oiled straps. 
I '11 hold 'em while you withe 'em — hit 'em hard, 
An' mebbe nex' time they '11 stay in the yard." 

"What for?" says she ; "What have the poor 
dears done?" 
"What fur?" says I ; "Why, didn 't I see 'em run, 
An' you right arter 'em, with that 'ere gad? 
Hain 't they run off frum school, an' actin' bad?" 
"Why no," says she ; "We took this awftemoon 
To sawnter through the woods, an' to commune 
With glorious natur' — " an' a lot o' stuff 
She said like that, 'at put me in a huff. 
An' then I ups an' tells her hit 's a crime 
The way she 's puttin' in her teachin' time. 

By jocks ! To think o' taxes that we pay 
All squandered in that foolish sort o' way ! 
Instid o' keepin' at their books, they run. 
Teacher an' all, about the woods, fur fun ! 
Commune with natur' ! Pickin' flowers an' weeds! 
Neglectin' all their actual, livin' needs! 



52 CUPID'S MISTAKE 

No, sir ! says I. No more sech schools fer me \ 

An' jest as iong as I m to be trustee, 

I 'II vote again these hifalutin ways, 

An' have school teached like in the good old days. 



CUPID'S MISTAKE 

I HEARD a lover tell his love. 
Enveloped in the evening shade. 
With words that might Parrhasius move. 
Yet raised no pity in the maid. 

The fire of love burned in his breast ; 

The light of love lit up his eye ; 
For love he led untiring quest. 

For love he laid him down to die. 

O Cupid, here were you to blame. 
For sending shaft in reckless flight! 

A watchful eye, a careful aim. 

Had saved the lover from this plight. 



RETA 53 



RETA 

HOW honor her who is beyond all praise? 
As well add whiteness to the falling snow. 
Or lend a candle to the sun's bright rays, 
Or to the ocean give yon brooklet's flow. 
Oft have I stood, as bound in subtle chains, 

And listened to the viol's symphony ; 
But when I heard her speak, then died the strains, 

And life itself was lost in ecstasy. 
To what, then, shall 1 liken her? Is there 

On earth a symbol that may mean her grace, 
Her voice, her form, her forehead wondrous fair) 
Oh, she is peerless, and in vain I chase 
Swift flying similes ; she is alone. 
And peerless on her solitary throne. 



54 WE "LL VANQUISH TIME WITH LOVE 



WE'LL VANQUISH TIME WITH LOVE 

WE LL vanquish time with love, my dear. 
We *11 vanquish time with love ; 
Though silver messengers appear 
To warn us that the winter s near, 
We '11 hold the summer always here — 

We '11 vanquish time with love. 
With love so gentle, love so strong; 
With love that bears the world along ; 
With love that laughs in joyous song — 
We '11 vanquish time with love. 

It 's all in how to love, my dear. 

It 's all in how to love ; 
The world has neither pang nor fear. 
Distress nor grief, nor lack of cheer. 
Nor ever comes a torment near. 

If one knows how to love. 
To love, and live as in a dream ; 
To love, and sail a mystic stream ; 
To love, and catch a heavenly gleam — 

If one knows how to love ! 



WE 'LL VANQUISH TIME WITH LOVE 55 

It's giving all for love, my dear, 

It 's giving all for love ; 
It 's blending in a perfect sphere 
The pearls of faith, year after year ; 
It 's making hearts as crystals clear ; 

It's giving all for love. 
For love, for which the good knights fought ; 
For love, for which the artist wrought ; 
For love, which gold has never bought — 

It's giving all for love. 



56 SUNNY DAYS 



SUNNY DAYS 

THE world is good on sunny days, 
Light-hearted and vivacious; 
The birds sing out in joyous praise, 
The air is full of merry lays. 
And everyone is gracious. 

The blind musician on the street 
Gets sympathy of shoppers ; 

The tunes he grinds seem even sweet, 

So everyone gives him a treat 
Of nickels or of coppers. 

In clink of chisel on the stone. 

In children's cheery voices. 
In creak of wheel, in ring of 'pJ^o^^e, 
In puff of train — in every tone 

We feel that earth rejoices. 

Who cares if this be in the Fall, 

And soon it will be snowing? 

Still can we hear the robin's call. 

Still sunshine fills the hearts of all 

And sets all faces glowing. 



SUNNY DAYS 57 



And still, in days like these, we grow 

Far larger and far better ; 
Oar hearts dwell on the good we know, 
And far away from us we throw 

Each weary chain and fetter. 

A sparkling eye, a smiling face, 

A pleasant salutation. 
May o 'er the world a passage trace ; 
Who knows how far a charming grace 

Will spread sweet delectation? 



58 BEAUTY AND SYMPATHY 



BEAUTY AND SYMPATHY 

BEAUTY, what art thou but a sunbeam fleet- 
ing? 
Red lips, smooth cheeks and forehead smooth 
and fair. 
Are all ephemeral, for Time will wear 
Their cclcr and their freshness at each meeting. 
What, hast thou power to fill the sluggish mind 
With noble thoughts and famous aspirations? 
To soul uncurbed canst thou teach winning 
patience, 
Or sweetly to stern duty be resigned? 
7 hese Sym^pathy may do, but Beauty, never ; 
Sweet Sympathy, who rules the heart of youth, 
Of manhood and of age ; whose gentle fire 
We'ds heart to heart, that nothing miay dissever ; 
Whcse ba'm is hope, whose banner is the truth, 
Who arms the warrior, tunes the poet's lyre. 



A BOY WITHOUT A KNIFE 59 



A BOY WITHOUT A KNIFE 

LAST night I had an awful dream,. 
The worst one in my life ; 
I dreamed that I had turned into 
A Boy without a Knife! 

In truth it has been many years 
Since boyhood ceased for me, 

And if I had the power, I 'd choose 
Again a boy to be. 

But not a Boy without a Knife ! 

Far rather any fate 
Than be the creature of my dream — 

That outcast at the gate ! 

I dreamed that I and other boys 
Went walking up Skull Run, 

And that we made the hollows ring 
Glad echoes to our fun. 

And I was happiest of all : 

The spring air seemed to make 

The blood go dancing through my veins. 
And set each nerve awake. 



60 A BOY WITHOUT A KNIFE 

Then, coming to a v/alnut tree, 

Each boy cut off a limb, 
And fashioned it upon his knee 

Into a whistle trim. 

But I, alas, was left to mourn ! 

For me no rustic fife ! 
I searched my clothes, and found I was 

A Boy without a Knife ! 

In vain I tried to borrow one — 
My comrades would not hear. 

But stood about, with cheeks puffed out, 
And blew their whistles clear ! 

Then in despair I wandered off 

To where a pleasant pool 
Invited boat to idly float, 

Impelled by zephyrs cool. 

The others followed, and with knives 
Made ships and sloops galore. 

Which sailed to make discoveries 
Upon an unknown shore. 

Enraged, again I strove to find 

A solitary spot. 
Where none could come to taunt me with 

A thing that I had not. 

But everywhere they followed me — 
That diabolic crew — 



A BOY WITHOUT A KNIFE 61 

And flashed their knives so I could see 
What things a knife could do. 

Great kites they made that sailed aloft 

And tortured me to to see ; 
They played the game of mumble-peg 

But ne'er invited me. 

On beech tree bark they cut tbeir names ; 

They w^hittled blocks of pine ; 
Made windmills, swords, and curious things 

Of quaint and queer design. 

And all they did was agony 

Unto my suffering soul. 
Until my smoldering passions burst 

In rage beyond control. 

With clubs and stones I laid about 

In most distressful strife, 
Until I woke, and ceased to be 

A Boy without a Knife ! 



62 TOMMY AND JANE 



TOMMY AND JANE 

AS I went a-walking down Gallaher's Lane, 
I chanced a couple to see ; 
'Twas Tommy and Jane, and the innocent 
twain 
Were happy as happy could be, tra la, 
Were happy as fish in the sea. 

They strolled hand in hand, as most innocents will. 

And love lent to Fancy a wing ; 
A bird on the hill caused the echoes to thrill — 

1 realized then it was Spring, tra la. 

The time for the robins to sing. 

The time for the dove to be hunting a mate, 
The time to be planning a nest. 

When lovers swing late on the old garden gate. 
And keep the old folks from their rest, tra la, 
From sleep that 's regarded as best. 

The time for the farmer to plow up his land, 
The time for the greens to appear. 

The time for a bland promenade hand in hand 
With one that you hold very dear, tra la. 
Who sweetens the time of the year. 



WINTER SUNSHINE 63 

May Tommy and Jane keep their love ever new, 
May Spring from their path ne 'er depart, 

Their sky be of blue, and each bird-song a cue 
For kisses that spring from the heart, tra, la. 
With love that no trial can thvs^art. 



WINTER SUNSHINE 

BRIGHT shines the sun upon the stricken 
earth — 
From genial May King Winter steals some 
hours 
And gilds with mockery the scene of dearth ; 

Yet does the trick so well, that scent of flowers 
And leaves unfolding, by the breeze is borne, 
Just as it is upon a springtime mom. 

So, when the winter of our lives appears, 

Let 's have no dreary days, but call on Love 

To brighten all our paths and banish fears, 
And make this world resemble that above ; 

For Love can break the force of Winter's cold. 

And light the dark 'ning skies with beams of gold. 



64 IN DECEMBER 



IN DECEMBER 

I LOOK abroad, and see the world as dead ; 
No light, no cheer, no welcome anywhere ; 
Brown fields, black hills and skies the hue of 

lead — 
Accessaries and agents of Despair ! 

The lengthening shadows of the dying year 

Have weight and substance, and they grimly 
come, 
O 'erwhelming and oppressing, till through fear 
The blood has ceased to pulse and nerves are 
dumb. 

Turn, turn, my soul ! Bar out the dismal view. 
And look within, where joy and welcome wait ! 

Where Love's fair sunshine will thy strength renew. 
And lend thee smiles to meet whatever fate ! 



WISHES 65 



WISHES 

T 'D like to be a millionaire about two hundred 

1 times, 

And travel where I want to in all sorts of 
lands and climes ; 

I 'd bring to pass the steamboatman's most beatific 
dream, 

And deepen the Ohio to a navigable stream. 

I 've heard about the drawbacks that the million- 
aires confess. 

But millionaire I 'd like to be — for some time, ne'er- 
theless. 

I 'd like to be the President of these United States: 
I 'd keep the politicians pretty busy scratching 

pates ; 
I 'd banish all tuxedos to the Island of Sulu, 
And cause a revolution in the style of Irish stew. 
They say it takes some nerve to be a brilliant 

success, 
But President I 'd like to be for four years, ne 'er- 

theless. 

I 'd like to be a castaway upon a palmy isle. 
With no one near to tell me that my clothes are 
not in style ; 



66 WISHES 



Where I can kick my shoes away and roll my 

trousers high, 
And give the corns that trouble me a vigorous 

good-by. 
Of course I might get hungry and would miss the 

fragrant mess, 
But castaway I 'd like to be, a brief time, ne 'er- 

theless. 

I 'd like to be a farmer in a gentlemanly way, 
With lots of hands to gather in the pumpkins and 

the hay ; 
And raise my own potatoes for the good old 

noonday hash, 
And have some oil wells on the place to bring in 

ready cash. 
The seasons might hit hard sometimes, and force 

me to eat cress, 
A farmer still I d like to be, a few days, ne'ertheless. 

I 'd like to be a merchant and to run a general 

store, 
I 'd hire the finest looking clerks that ever trod a 

floor; 
I 'd eat the raisins and the nuts while sitting by 

the fire. 
And help myself to anything my fancy might desire. 
I 've heard of merchants doing that and coming to 

distress, 
A merchant, though, I 'd like to be — at Christmas 

— ne'ertheless. 



LONGINGS 67 



LONGINGS 

I LOVE to wander in the fields, 
To note the wonders Nature yields 
For man's delight in earth and sky — 
The fragrant fields, where you and I 
In former times have often caught 
The perfume of the flowers, brought 
By gentle zephyrs from the bowers 
Where bees spend many happy hours. 

And more especially I love 

Bright summer on such days as these — 
When blizzards hit without a glove, 

And Jack Frost gives us such a squeeze. 

I love to lie beside the stream 

For hours and hours, and idly dream 

Upon a world created fair 

And kept forever free from care ; 

To hear the bird upon the bough 

In merry music tell me how 

He wooed and won his artless mate. 

Who on her nest sits quite sedate. 



68 LONGINGS 



little birds ! I hope that you 're 
Enjoying well your winter's rest. 

From zero weather all secure. 
And blanketed within your nest. 

1 love to walk 'mid forest trees, 
And feel upon my brow the breeze 
Come cool and fresh from leafy shade ; 
To see the rabbits on parade ; 

To hear the little chipmunk swear; 
To gather orchids rather rare ; 
To have the perspiration chase 
In tickling rivers down my face. 

In fact, when snow is on the ground, 
My love for summer is intense ; 

Though, when that season rolls around 
It may be that I *ll wish it hence. 



THE CONFLICT 69 



THE CONFLICT 

DARK with hate was the face of the Kinr, 
As he stood from his minions apart ; 
And his eyes glinted bright with the cold, 
cruel light 
Of the evil intent in his heart. 

He looked down on the land he had won — 
Sorely stricken and torn with the v/ar 

He had waged when the Lord of the fair land 
had gone 
On a visit to regions afar. 

He delighted to gaze on the woe ; 

He was glad with a vengeance-bom joy ; 
"Never tribute," he cried, "I demand of my foe: 

First I conquer, and then I destroy !" 

And then at his dread breathing, the land 
Became wasted, and dreary and chill ; 

The great forests were dead ; every creature had 
fled; 
Even hushed was the song of the rill. 



70 THE CONFLICT 

And no longer the glad people went 

Gaily laughing, to labor afield — 
They were cowering low in the depth of their 
woe! 

On their knees untD God they appealed. 

Now they prayed the return of their Lord — 
For his speedy home-coming they prayed ; 

They had faith in the swing of his terrible sword. 
In the gleam of his conquering blade. 

Bat he sent, from his realm in the South, 
A slight maiden, his love to assure ; 

With a smile she advanced, and her eyes kindly 
glanced 
With the light of a love that was pure. 

Then a fear seized the King of the North, 
For her smile put his minions to flight ; 

And the people, emboldened, rejoicing came forth 
With their welcoming songs of delight. 

And the broDk's merry music was heard, 

And the forest arose unto life. 
And the deserts grew green, and the good, gold- 
en sheen 

Covered gently the scars of the strife. 



FATE 71 



FATE 

WHEN Jerry married Susy Ann, 
Their thoughts were of the present : 
They had a very modest plan 
By which to eke 
On ten a week 
A modest life but pleasant. 

A year or two thus rolled away, 

Then thought they of their neighbors 
Who had no landlord bills to pay. 

While they had spent 

For monthly rent 
The product of their labors. 

So they procured a house and land ; 

With grim determination 
They worked and worried, schemed and plai 
Till debts were paid. 
And they surveyed 
Their own with exultation. 



72 FATE 

But scarcly had they settled down 
Delighted with their blessing, 
When they resolved to move to town 

Wherein are found 

An endless round 
Of pleasures worth possessing. 

Then for a space life was a joy, 
Unlike the old-time quiet; 
Until they saw the latest toy — 

An auto, and 

They made a grand 
Reduction sale to buy it. 

They bowled along the avenue, 
Into the country sallied ; 

The choo-choo down a hillside fiew, 
.A.nd struck a rock — 
From that dread shock 

The couple never rallied. . 

If Jerry end his Susy Ann — 

But what 's the use of talking? 
Some people live a lengthened span 

Yet drive a pace 

Like frenzied race, 
And others die while walking. 



THE CALL OF THE 'PHONE 73 



THE CALL OF THE 'PHONE 

THEY were holding ccnverscitlon in a desultory 
way, 
Sometimes pausing for a mcment to consider 
what to say, 
Till at last a subject started that he followed with 

delight, 
A.nd he toasted it and roasted it regardless of 
time's flight. 

It was leading to a point that he had long desired 

to reach, 
And he hoped that the result would be eternal 

joy to each; 
He v>^as leaving in the morning— his vacation 

would be o'er, 
And he hated to be fated to uncertainty once 

more. 

Now or never he would settle it; away with 

doubt and dread ! 
So with nerves at mighty tensicn, he enclosed her 

hand and said : 



74 THE CALL OF THE 'PHONE 

"Why may we net live forever"- then a call rang 

on the phone ! 
"Some one's ringing !" and upspringmg, there she 

left him, all alone ! 

Strong in patience, there he waited ; she returned 

with blushing face ; 
He resumed the old, old story at the interrupted 

place, 
Told it wi.h such flow of language it surprised 

his timid soul ; 
Her eyes glistened while she listened and a tear 

escaped control. 

When at length he popped the question, then she 

looked most sweetly sad ; 
"Don 't be angry with me, Reggie, but it 's really 

too bad ! 
if you d been a wes bit quicker — that was 

Charlie at the phone — 
There s no knowing — You re not going?" But 

he left her there alone. 



PROGRESS 75 



PROGRESS 

THE good old days, the good old days I 
Ah me, they 're passing fast ; 
Tis well the poets sing their praise, 
Because they cannot last ! 

The pastor, in the days of old, 

Might take his little glass; 
But now, the sheep would jump the fclJ 

If he should be so crass. 

The Father of our Country held 

That lotteries were good ; 
But now, by public voice compelled. 

They 're driven to the wood. 

The car conductor must refrain 

From language full of vim. 
For fear his passengers complain 

And put an end to him. 

But when you hear the last they tell. 
You'll wonder "where we're at;" 

The landlord of a big hotel 
Is "fired" because he 's fat ! 



76 PROGRESS 

Why, ever since the world was made, 

When men desired to dine, 
The fat inn keeper drew the trade — 

He was a living sign. 

Oh, what a prospect is in view 

Of years that are to come ! 
When steamboat mates shall softly coo. 

And singers shall be dumb ! 

When seedless fruit is all the go. 

And reckless pilots guide 
The noiseless steamboat to and fro 

Upon a wetless tide ! 

When wingless birds shall cleave the air, 
And tongueless are the bells; 

And fatless men shall have the care 
Of all our big hotels ! 



PESSIMIST AND OPTIMIST 77 



PESSIMIST AND OPTIMIST 

PESSIMIST 

OH, tell me not the world is fair ; 
But rather say 'tis full of care, 
O 'er clouded with distress and pain, 
With sorrows in an endless chain. 

OPTIMIST 

What, is your memory so short 
You have forgot your youthful sport ? 
And shall one touch of sorrow kill 
The joys that once your heart did thrill ? 

PESSIMIST 

Oh, tell me not that woman's true. 
That virtue lurks in eyes of blue ! 
Say rather that Deception roves 
In realms that God intended Love's. 



78 PESSIMIST AND OPTIMIST 

OPTIMIST 

B^cau35 one woman played you false 
And chose another for the waltz, 
Would you condemn the millions who 
Unto taz ones they pledge are true > 

PESSIMIST 

I own there are some men so pure 
That angels' selves are scarcely truer ; 
But in the world's truth-scorning eye 
Such men are fools — until they die. 

OPTIMIST 

Then why in general terms would you 
Rank with the bad the noble, too ? 
Your observation well may teach 
'Tis very few of men you reach. 

PESSIMIST 

To garner gold or heighten pleasure 
Fills up the most of man's short measure 
And then, like fish that seize the bait. 
They fight to live life o'er — too late. 

OPTIMIST 

Some truth in that, I must admit, 
And there I palpably am hit ; 
And yet I don 't think we intend 
To be so frivolous to the end. 



PESSIMIST AND OPTIMIST 79 

PESSIMIST 

Insidious Vice leaps o 'er the earth, 
And Virtue s strangled in its birth ; 
To all, save Youth's untutored eyes. 
This earth is far from Paradise. 

OPTIMIST 

Nay, surely. Virtue is alive, 
And Vice has much to do to thrive ; 
But each one makes this world a bit 
Of Heaven or Hell, as he sees fit. 



80 GET THE BEST 



• GET THE BEST 

A PEDDLER was showing me some of his 
ware ; 
I longingly looked, for the bargains seemed 
rare, 
When down came a bird from his flight in the air, 

And perched on the arbor to rest ; 
Then sang, as he gave me a quizzical stare, 

"Get the best ! Get the best ! Get the best !" 

Though money be scarce, it is certainly true 
It 's best to get things that are solid all through. 
That are, when they're old, just as good as when 
new, 

Like many a Jo Miller jest ; 
There s wisdom in taking the little bird's cue : 

"Get the best ! Get the best ! Get the best !" 

Cheap hats may be good for a single parade ; 
The shoes come apart when through water you 

wade ; 
The trousers may bag, or their color may fade, 

Or fail to connect with the vest ; 
It 's wisdom to take this advice in a trade : 

"Get the best ! Get the best ! Get the best !" 



GET THE BEST 61 

Avoid Imitation, gilt, sham and veneer, 
Though good as the genuine stuff it appear, 
You '11 find in the end that it costs very dear. 

And then you'll be strongly impressed 
That song of the bird is a good thing to hear : 

"Get the best ! Get the best ! Get the best !" 

In choosing your friends, too, the rule will apply : 

Do not altogether depend on the eye — 

The forms may seem good, but some figures wall lie. 

And hearts may not answer the test ; 
In all that you choose, or in all that you buy, 

"Get the best ! Get the best ! Get the iDest !" 



82 THE STUDENT 



T 



THE STUDENT 

O show he is a gentleman 

Of credit and good breeding, 
To prove his race, he goes the pace- 
And it is glorious speeding ! 
From rout to rout, 
With merry shout 
He runs about, 
His spirits bubbling laughter ; 
And as he kinks 
His arm and drinks 
He never thinks 
Upon the morning after! 

Amid the giddy social whirl 

He is a bright star shining ; 

He ne 'er forgets a date, nor lets 

A chance go by for dining. 

He s always found 

In merry round. 

Where jokes resound 
Against the groaning rafter ; 

A butterfly, 

He flutters high. 

But wonders why 
Upon the morning after ! 



THE AWAKENING 83 



THE AWAKENING 

THE greatest changes in our lives arise from 
simple things, 
An' history shows how little things have made 

men to be kings. 
It's jest the way you take em, or the way that 

they take you — 
In that debate I 'm never sure jest which side is 

the true ; 
But this I know : if t hadn 't been that I was 

mighty dry, 
An' stopped at Turner's fur a drink, instead o' 

ploddin' by, 
Life wouldn 't now be near so bright, as Dollie 

half agrees — 
Fur there set Dollie on the porch, a-shellin' of 

some peas. 

I 'd seen her many times before, an' liked her 

mighty well ; 
1 'd often heerd the fellers say she was the county 

belle; 



84 THE AWAKENING 

She had a pleasant way with her, that made her 
lots o' friends ; 

She had that winnin,' woman's way the Testa- 
ment commends ; 

An' purty as a pictur' — say, no pictur' ever made 

Shows up so well as she did there, a-settin' in the 
shade, 

Her bonnet pushed back frum her face, a sauce- 
pan on her knccj, 

That mornin' when 1 seen her on the porch 
a-shellin' peas. 

We d gone to school together, way up yander on 

the hill; 
I 'd alius called her Dollie, an' she 'd alius called 

me Bill. 
Why, we 'd been chums since we was kids, an' 

quarreled, too, we had. 
But, bless you, she was not the kind to stay for- 
ever mad. 
I didn 't know she liked me then ; I didn 't even 

know 
How fur my likin' her had grown — if likm's ever 

grow — 
But all at once I liembled, like a poplar in a 

breeze. 
Fur then I knowed I loved her, as she set there 

shellin' peas. 



SONG OF THE GRIPPED 83 



SONG OF THE GRIPPED 

HARK to the song of the man with a cold, 
Voicing it up from the depths of his hold. 
Rasping and gasping in evident pain, 
Sneezing and wheezing this silly refrain : 

"Don 't look at me ! 
At-choo ! At-chee ! 
I can 't help sneezing, 
Though it s displeasing ! 
K-r-r-r-r-roo ! K-r-r-r-ree !" 

Swelled to unusual dimensions his head ; 
Cares not a red for Bill, Teddy or Ed, 
Panama, grannyma, 'Zollern or Guelph — 
All his sensations are centered on self. 

"Don 't look at me," etc. 

He 's in the grasp of the terrible grip ; 

"Ich hab' ein' sehr schlimmen schnupfen"— don 't 

trip! 
Laden with lotions he cannot recall — 
Camphor-gum, turpentine, lamp oil and all. 

"Don 't look at me," etc. 



86 SONG OF THE GRIPPED 

Nerve lines are crossed so he cannot locate 
Painful sensations, no matter how great ; 
Pain in the back has got into the head, 
And headache has gone to his great toe instead. 

"Don 't look at me," etc. 

Once, he remembers, a long time ago, 

Laughing he listened to sad tale of woe ; 

Sad tale of woe — for it was of a cold. 

And now it comes back to him ten hundred fold. 

"Don t look at me ! 
At-choo! At-chee! 
I can 't help sneezing. 
Though it 's displeasing ! 
K-r-r-r-r-roo ! K-r-r-r-ree !" 



CATCHING THE TRAIN 87 



CATCHING THE TRAIN 

WE *RE all in a flurry, 
Great bustle and worry, 
Quick question for this and for that. 
"Where are the valises?" 
I 've got 'em— two pieces : 
"Stop, John ! You 're forgetting your hat ! 
Is my hat on straight now?" 
Come on— we are late now ! 
"Oh, John, did you put out the cat?" 

At last we are ready. 

Come on, now ; hold, steady ! 
It *s dark on the steps after night. 

What *s that? "It is raining !" 

Well, no use complaining : 
Umbrellas are strapped good and tight. 

Of course, dear, you knew it — 

You told me to do it — 
Can t get 'em until there 's a light. 



88 CATCHING THE TRAIN 

"If we had a hack now !" 

Too late to go back now — 
It 's time for the train to be here ; 

In less than a minute 

We both shall be in it 
And laughing at this mad career. 

Step lively ! Fly faster ! 

Humph! Call this disaster? 
It s fun if you think so, my dear ! 

Hurrah ! Here 's the station ! 

What 's that? Desperation ! 
We 've got one hour-forty to wait ! 

"What good was our dashing 

And mud-puddle splashing? 
But that has been always our fate !" 

By George ! Say, that 's funny ! 

Forgot all my money ! 
It s lucky the train is so late ! 



THE CARNIVAL 89 



THE CARNIVAL 

THE carnival has come to town ; 
I 'm goin' to get gay ; 
1 'm goin' to plank my money down 
An see it float away ; 
I 'm goin' to see the funny clown 
An' hear the brass band play. 

Say, fellers, here 's a circle swing ! 

Le 's jump a pony's back 
An' take a lope around the ring ; 

Whoa ! Steady! Git ep, Jack ! 
Look out, there, kids ! The measly thing 

Is like ter jump the track I 

Le 's board the mighty Ferris wheel 

An' travel to the sky ; 
It 's curious how queer you feel 

When you get up so high. 
Say, don 't it make your blood congeal 

To hear that bagpipe cry? 



90 THE CARNIVAL 

Lookout ! I m goin' ter shoot a card 
An' win that watch, you bet ! 

What's that? Some collar buttons, pard> 
Why that s the worst luck, yet ! 

Come on ! Le 's hit a nigger's head ; 
I '11 give you half I get. 

Who plunked me with that rubber ball? 

I '11 rub her neck — you '11 see ! 
Le 's sling confetti on 'em all ! 

Say, stop that purxhin' me ! 
I 'm takin' in the Carnival 

An' guess the street is free. 



EVENING ON THE RIVER 91 



EVENING ON THE RIVER 

OUT from the willows 
Drifts the boat upon the tide, 
While fairy billows 
Lightly roll beside. 
Where the vain moon hovers 

O 'er her own reflection fair, 
Nature, dear to lovers, 
Will her graces share. 

Ohio! Kind river, 

Whom the winds love to caress ; 
River ! Bright river ! 

Keep the secret we confess! 

Sweet music stealing 

O 'er the gentle moving stream, 
Softly appealing 

Bids our fancies dream — 
Could this be forever. 

Nothing more could we desire ; 
On this moonlit river. 

Love could never tire. 

Ohio ! Broad river ! 

Wonderful and gentle stream ! 
River ! Strong river ! 

Keep thou well our blissful dream ! 



92 THE WEST VIRGINIA BANANA 



THE WEST VIRGINIA BANANA 

EXPERTS tell us that the wheat crop is two 
hundred millions short, 
And it means the world will suffer, if there's 
truth in that report, 
For the prices asked for breadstuffs will be lifted 

up so high. 
Only millionaires and officeholders can afford to 

buy; 
But another rumor hits us in the hollow of our 

craw — 
It is said there is a shortage of the custard-like 
pawpaw ! 

Let the wheat crop go to thunder ! We can live 
on yellow pone. 

Like our pioneer forefathers, to whom wheat was 
scarcely known ; 

We can even stave off hunger for a chunk of 
juicy steak. 

Or deny ourselves a chicken for financial stand- 
ing's sake ; 

But the camel's back was broken, it is said, with 
that last straw — 

And we cannot help this yearning for the flavor of 
pawpaw. 



THE WEST VIRGINIA BANANA 93 



What care we for golden pippin, mellow pear, or 

plum or peach, 
If the Mountain State banana only comes within 

our reach? 
There s a vacancy within us that is aching to be 

filled. 
Which defies the orchard's beauties or the dish of 

cook well skilled ; 
But this hunger on our vitals for another year must 

gnaw, 
For they say there is a failure of the luscious, rich 

pawpaw. 



94 THE CATBIRD 



THE CATBIRD 

THERE 'S a merry little beggar in a tree 
Who persistently declines to let me be — 
In the morning, very early, 
He performs a hurly-burly, 
Qyite enough to make me surly — 
For I 'm longing still in dreamland far to flee. 

He 's the sleekest dressed of all the feathered race, 
And he needs no gorgeous dyes to give him grace ; 
Clad in raiment unassuming, 
On his neatness, rather, pluming. 
He outdoes the rest in grooming — 
Cannot tolerate a feather out of place. 

He is first to greet the coming of the day, 
And the last to chant as twilight fades away ; 
Also in the sultry nooning. 
You may hear him gently crooning, 
Or in merry accents tuning 
As he perches on the cherry's highest spray, 

Hs 's a jolly little joker, and he takes 

From the others all the trills with which he wakes ; 

Steals the thrush's choicest treasure, 

Robs the redbird of a measure. 

Uses robin's notes at pleasure, 
In the medley of the melody he makes. 



THE PASSING OF SUMMER 95 



THE PASSING OF SUMMER 

^TILL there .are lovely flowers 
A^_y And pleasant garden bowers ; 

Still bluebirds gather near 
With songs of merry cheer ; 
Still gentle breezes bring 
Their scented offering. 

It seems, perhaps, we make 
Sometimes a grave mistake. 
When thoughtlessly we call 
This time of year the Fall. 
A fall 's a tumble — drop — 
A sort of flipper-flop ; 
But this — this is a slide, 
A gentle, languid glide 
From golden summer time 
To crisp and silver rime. 

Sweet calm is everywhere : 
We breathe a smoke-cured air ; 
The trees are gaily dressed 
As in their Sunday best ; 
The mellowed sunbeams give 
Delight to all who live. 



96 THE PASSING OF SUMMER 

There is no sharp-drawn line 
To carefully define 
The torrid season's end ; 
But dexterously blend 
The good old summer days 
And Autumn's azure haze. 
And so 

We go 

On slow, 
And though 

We know 

It s so. 
We feel we cannot say 
That Summer 's passed away. 

Yet soon the trees will shed 
Their duds of gold and red, 
Preparing for their deep 
And placid winter sleep; 
And some day there will be 
Decline in mercury, 
And rain, and snow, and sleet, 
Red noses and cold feet. 
And chills, and ague shakes. 
And grip, with all its aches. 
And doctors for these ills. 
With pills and squills and bills. 

But now, such things are not ; 
It 's neither cold nor hot ; 
But simply, grandly, fine ! 
Deliciously divine ! 



THE GAME 97 



L 



THE GAME 

ONG time hath passed since then, but still, 
When memory brings the scene to view, 
My bosom feels the burning thrill 
Which then, in Love's first hour, I knev/. 

Youth's brightest charms lay on her face, 
Where roses bloomed in Alpine snows ; 

Where dim.pling laughter loved to chase 
Each faint attempt at calm repose. 

Her s'ender ha"d hung o'er the board, 
In doubt to choose the proper piece ; 

Up-on her smiling lips the word 
Half died before it found release. 

A maiden, perfect as a flower ! 

A happiness without a sorrow 1 
To spend so sweetly such an hour, 

Who would not from the future borrow ? 

Twas long ago ; the very game 

Betokens what our course hath been— 

Now here, now there— what recked the player? 
It mattered not v/hich one should win. 



93 A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES 



A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES 

DE WADDLE'S son had earned his father's 
ire, 
And had been bidden to his room retire ; 
Where he must bide (the dreadful sentence ran) 
In durance vile till morn remove the ban. 

Scarce had the deep toned town clock six times 
tolled 
The hours that follow noon, when in that hold 
The youth's dire lot was cast. Fiercely he raged. 
Like to a catamount that 's newly caged. 
Till on the floor he fljng himself, and there, 
O'erwhelmed at last by terrible despair. 
He heaved convulsive sobs, and groans, and sighs. 
And scalding teardrops gushed from both his eyes. 

As thus he lay, unto his spirit came 
A feeble light, which grew like beacon's flame, 
That flickers first, then steady grows and bright. 
Until its ruddy radiance fills the night. 
With eyes dilate, and surging wrath renewed. 
The youth arose and struck an attitude 
Which Ajax with approval might have viewed ; 
Then with his fist he smote his swelling breast 
And dared his father do his worst and best. 



A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES 99 



"Aha!" cried he, (for in the tales he'd read, 
So stood the heroes, and such words they said) — 
"Aha ! Henceforth forever I '11 be free ! 
No pent up slave in Utica I 'II be ! 
The time at last is come ; this very night 
Far from this place of woe I bend my flight ! 
Henceforth a mighty hunter I will roam, 
And all the boundless west shall be my home. 
I '11 raise a long mustache and flowing hair ; 
I '11 chase the mountain lion to his lair ; 
The highest of the Rockies I will scale. 
And follow hot upon the Red Man's trail 
To rescue beauteous maids from his caresses 
And have them staunch my wounds with golden 

tresses. 
I 'fl be the mortal foe of beasts and men, 
And all the world shall read of 'Bully Ben.'" 

Thus having said, bold Benjamin went o'er 
The sum and substance of his worldly store : 
Few pennies ; 3^et m marbles, knives and cord, 
Richer by far than many a landed lord. 
Then, on the margin of that wild romance, 
"Daredevil Dick, the Duke in Deerskin Pants," 
He roughly wrote : 

"proud parent fare the wel 
Thy hotty ruff i leve i Will not tel 
Why i depart accept your crewel coarse 
Again farewel dont die of Wild remorse 
For i am hapy Yours no longer Ben. 
Tel Ma Goodby until We meat again" 

Lora 



100 A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES 

He pinned this cramped epistle to the wall 
And waited for the friendly night to fall. 
He sat and watched the sinking of the sun, 
When all the west with gore seemed overrun ; 
While fancy turned the shadows of the trees 
To skulking, red-skinned aborigines ; 
And he, with an imaginary gun. 
Keen-eyed, pursued and slew them, one by one. 
Yet, when the jingling supper-bell was rung, 
A misty veil before his eyes there hung. 
And half he wished — but no ! he must be brave 
Who hopes to rend the shackles of the slave ! 
So, pacing slowly up and down the floor. 
He turned his father's insults o'er and o'er. 
Until his mind, where meaner thoughts had mixed. 
Was now once more on freedom firmly fixed. 

At last night's shadows deepened far and wide ; 
The tree-frog trilled his lay, and loud replied 
His deep-voiced cousin from the neighboring ditch ; 
While sang the owl in mellow tones and rich ; 
Old Morpheus now with juice of poppy steeps 
The darkened air, and all the household sleeps — 
The hour has come : the epoch making hour. 
The death of serfdom and the birth of power ! 
Sleep on, good folks ! and happy be your dreams — 
You will be sad enough when morning beams ! 

The hour has come ; the youth full well has 
planned 
His course to freedom ; with a dextrous hand 



A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES 101 



The shutter stealthily he opens wide : 
Two sheets, well-knotted, to the low sill tied, 
Will lower him to earth— to earth ! and then 
Hurrah for freedom and for Bully Ben ! 

He sits upon the sill ; the pale moon shines ; 
The white clothes drying on a neighbor's lines 
Gleam like gaunt specters, swaying to and fro. 
And shivers down his spinal column go. 
He hears De Waddles, senior, in his sleep. 
Snore like seme ogre in his cavern keep ; < 

The time, the hour, the very moment's here 
When from these scenes the youth must disappear. 

He scales the sill and downward glides — alas ! 
Did ever hero come to such a pass ? 
His aftward garment with hook entangles. 
And high in air proud young De Waddles dang- 
les! 

In this predicament he turns his hope 
To climbing up the knotted linen rope ; 
He tugs and pulls, but tugs and pulls in vain — 
The rope above his reach is rent in twain ! 
Trust now, O Ben, unto thy tailor's stitches. 
And eke the textile strength of thy knee breeches ! 
For, should they fail thee in this trial sore. 
Thou must be dropped full thirteen feet or more ! 
Ah, what an awful end for one so young ! 
And yet, what shame it were thus to be hung 
Till morn reveal thee to the passers by ; 
Like some old tavern symbol, hung on high ! 



102 A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES 

One hope, and only one, before him lies : 
He must depend for succor on his cries ; 
So, out upon the night air wildly ring 
Full many shouts and shrieks most harrowing. 
Up go the windows over all the town, 
The doors burst open, folks rush up and down, 
Until at last, there in the moon's full ray. 
They see a sight that fills them with dismay. 
"A ladder ! Br^ing a ladder 1" many shout. 
The while the village bells ring madly out, 
Excited people throng in tumult wild, 
And see aloft De Waddles' luckless child. 
Illumined brightly by the full round moon ; 
A dreadful sight — enough to make one swoon ! 

At length the youth is safely brought to land. 
Relieved of great suspense ; yet all demand 
The reason of his hanging — how and why? 
His only answer is again to cry ; 
Whereat his father, guessing shrewdly well, 
Explains just how the accident befell. 
And from that m.om.ent of distress and shame 
Young Ben De Waddles grew more mild ar 

tame. 
And having cast aside all vain romance. 
Now honors both his parents and his pants. 



THE NIGHT-BLOOMING CEREU3 



103 



THE NIGHT-BLOOMING CEREUS 

WE gathered round the stranger from the 
South, ^ .^ , 

The rough, ungainly plant with ragged 
leaves. 
Brought from its native land of sun and drouth, 
Forlornly sad, as one in exile grieves. 

July's bright sun had set ; the western field 

Of heaven showed the new moon's silver thread, 

And we, like worshipers, devoutly kneeled 
To watch the buds unto their glory spread. 

A waxen flower, jutt touched with tint of cream. 
Lifting its petals as a sentient thing ; 

We saw them softly move, and drank the stream 
Of fragrant ichor welling from the spring. 

Within the deep recess, now opening fast. 
What fairy work, so intricate, so fine ! 

Nay; even Eastern marvels are surpassed — 
No genie ever wrought such fair design ! 



104 PEACE 

That flower so rich should grace so poor a leaf ! 

That was the wonder by the hp expressed ; 
And yet we knew that by such high relief 

The Father teaches to His children best. 

Out of the darkness He created light ; 

Out of the slime He draws the purest flower ; 
From gloomy clouds come crystals dazzling white 

From deepest woe the soul leaps into power. 



A 



PEACE 

WAY from the town and its worry, 

From life and its struggles away ! 
How happy and peaceful the moments 
So passed on a fair April day ! 



Where falls the tall sycamore's shadow 
On eddy just spotted with foam ; 

Where, down in the depth of the water, 
The gamy black bass has his home. 

To lie on the sward with the bluets, 
And list to the oriole's song, 

And breathe the sweet air of the forest- 
No day can be ever too long. 



WHILE SILVER CLINKS 105 



WHILE SILVER CLINKS 

DEAL out the drinks! 
What matter though a woman's heart 
May burst with bitter grief ? 
Will not this silver soothe the smart 
And bring my soul relief? 
Hear how it clinks ! 
Deal out the drinks ! 

Deal out the drinks! 
Though souls be damned and ruin come ; 
Though health and home be wrecked, 
This appetite of man for rum 
Shall not by me be checked 
While silver clinks! 
Deal out the drinks ! 

Deal out the drinks ! 
Destroy the god-like mind of man ; 

Pervert this earth to hell ! 
What miatters the Creator's plan, 
While we have rum to sell. 
And silver clinks? 
Deal out the drinks ! 



106 THE SOUL'S RELEASE 



THE SOUL'S RELEASE 

DEATH is a dreadful thing ; 
But not to him who dies, 
For to his yearning eyes 
Come gleams of Paradise 
To ease his suffering. 

'Tis full of dread to those 
Who sadly linger here, 
And see, year after year. 
Fond faces disappear ; 

Theirs are the keenest throes. 

Theirs is the bitterness ; 

Theirs are the grief and pain ; 
The sorrowful refrain : 
"He will not come again !" 

Brings ever nev/ distress. 

O aching hearts, find peace 
In this sweet thought alway ; 
We, too, shall fly away ! 
Then welcome that glad day 

When gets the soul release ! 



CORDELIA 107 



CORDELIA 

I LOOKED upon her face, and beauty there 
Shone as the richest gem that fits a crown ; 
Her low, pale brow, as Aphrodites' fair, 
Had never known the gathering of a frown ; 
Her lips were faultless, and they seemed but made 

For liquid words that lovers linger o'er ; 
Her eyes had caught from Heaven the deep blue 
shade 
And quiet power that made my heart adore. 
But more than beauty in her face I met. 
Of value more than all the winning grace 

And sweet components of a woman's power ; 
The comely virtues, one and all, had set 

Their freshest charms upon the maiden's face 
And given her the pureness of a flower. 



108 NOVEMBER 



NOVEMBER 

THERE is no month in all the year 
But brings its due amount of cheer ; 
Yet, one above the rest I prize : 
November — month of gloomy skies ! 

Then comes the merry annual feast, 
With than'iful hearts for stores increased, 
For hope, f3r friends, for love's caress, 
For lengthened life and happiness. 

Though blighting frost has killed the flowers, 
And sunshine yields to drizzling showers. 
With flurries now and then of snow, — 
November sets the heart aglow. 

What care I for the coming cold? 
What care I though the year be old? 
From yonder gray and gusty arch 
/Eolus plays our wedding march ! 



A VALENTINE 109 



Thanksgiving Day recalls to mind 
The many blessings that I find 
While traveling this round of life. 
But none more precious than my wife. 

And so again I bravely say. 

Sing ye of June or sing of May, 

No other month of all the year 

Has brought me half November's cheer. 



A VALENTINE 

AS, when the evening shades appear, 
The fond dove seeks the friendly tree, 
His loving mate to softly cheer. 
So, fondly v/ould I turn to thee. 

As from the hills the rivulet 

Does onward strive to reach the sea. 
Through devious ways with anxious fret, 

So ever turns my life to thee. 

True as the day does follow night. 
Where'er on earth my lot may be, 

In storm or calm, in dark or light. 

My thoughts, dear love, will turn to thee. 



no COURAGE 



COURAGE ! 

HEAREST thou not how the wild wind is 
sighing 
Its cares to the leafless and shuddering tree? 
Hear est thou not the dark branches replying, 
Repining at Winter's unfeeling decree? 

Seest thou not how the great clouds are driven 
Like misshapen monsters, in weird, silent flight? 

Seest thou not how the fair stars of heaven 

Yield up to those monsters their beautiful light? 

Yet will the wind, that so sadly is wailing. 

Right cheerfully sing of rare beauty and love ; 

Yet the tree bloom, and the clouds, onward sail- 
ing. 
Reveal the pure stars still in splendor above. 

Yield not thy heart to despairing emotion ; 

Blench not when the storms of the worldlings 
arise ; 
Calm be thy breast as the depth o the ocean 

Though envious minds toss its foam to the skies. 



JACK KIRBY'S COON 1 1 1 



JACK KIRBY'S COON 
A Ballad of the Hills 

COME, gather near, good people, while I pick 
the banjo string. 
An' listen to the ballad that I am about to 

sing. 
It's partly of a little boy, Jack Kirby was his name, 
An' partly of a little coon as was owned by that 

same ; 
A feller from the country as was very fond o' 

Jack, 
Had left it with him, sayin' it was sharper than a 

tack; 
An' you can bet that it was sharp ; why, coons 

jest nat'rally are ; 
They make a sort o' link betwixt a monkey an' a 

b'ar 
With now an' then a glint o' fox a-peepin' frum 

their eyes. 
An' playin' off at times jest like a possum when 

he dies. 
An' that 'ere coon that Jack possessed was not 

behind the rest — 
in fact, 1 rayther think for smartness he could beat 

the best. 



112 JACK KIRBY'S COON 

The little sharp-nosed, ring-tailed cuss was always 

in for sport ; 
Jack had it christened Jupiter, but called it Jupe 

for short. 
Say, you've seen monkeys, an' you know the 

measly tricks they do ? 
Well, that 'ere coon was equal to a full-sized 

monkey crew. 

When Jack first shov/ed him at the house, he 

was a reg'lar pet ; 
They 'd stroke his fur, an' praise his tail, an' liked 

to see him set 
An' eat a lump o' sugar or a piece o' frosted cake ; 
An' when he v/alked, they laughed an' laughed — 

you 'd ought to see 'em shake ! 
They fattened it with honey served in a silver 

spoon ; 
There wasn' t nothin' in the house too good for 

that 'ere coon, 
An' Granma Kirby, most of all, appeared to take 

delight 
In watchin' of its antics, jest because it seemed so 

bright. 
She said 'at Jupe rem'n'led her so much o' little Jack, 
Especially when settin' up — it hunched so in the 

back! 
An' then they' d git to laughin' an' they' d wink 

at one another. 
An' say aloud, "Poor little Jupe ! He wants to 

look like brother !" 



JACK KIRBY'S COON 113 

But that was in the first few weeks — a sort o' 

honeymoon, 
When Jack an' Jupe was happy, till a change 

come, all too soon. 
The novelty was all wore off; the fam'ly ceased 

to laugh, 
An' even Granma Kirby 'most forgot to sling her 

chaff. 
Though little Jack unto the coon still steadfast was 

and true. 
He couldn't git 'em to applaud the things that 

coon would do. 
And sad indeed it is to say, but yet 1 must relate 
That Granma's cool indifference soon turned to 

bitter hate. 
You see, it was about this way : Like all the 

sharp-nosed kind. 
That furry little creetur had a most enquirin' mind. 
So, when he seen a ball o' yam a-layin' on the 

floor. 
He 'd pull it all to pieces, jest to see what's at the 

core; 
An' that, o' course, made Granma wroth, because 

it was her ball. 
An' she 'd attack it with the broom, till Jack raised 

up a squall. 

One time, while waitin' for Jack's pa, the sup- 
per table set. 
An' all had gathered round the fire, that pesky 
little pet 



1 f 4 JACK KIRBY'S COON 

Slipped in the kitchen unbeknown an' dumb the 

table there. 
An' went a-snoopin' roun' among the bits o' china- 
ware. 
At length he found the bowl in which they kep' 

the sugar stored. 
An' undertook to help himself a little frum the 

hoard ; 
An act, o' course, resultin' in upsettin' o' the bowl. 
Which set out, frum its natur', on the table for to 

roll, 
With Jupe a' scramblin' after — Say, there was an 

awful crash ! 
An' broken dishes on the floor was mingled up 

with hash ! 
The fam'ly come a-rushin' in — it was a sickly sight. 
And supper was a little late in bein' served that 

night. 

That raised a great excitement, an* poor Jupe 

was doomed to die ; 
But little Jack stood by him, with a hot tear in 

his eye, 
Like Pocahontas savin' Smith ; he dared 'em do 

their worst, 
An' said if they killed Jupiter they'd have to kill 

him first. 
His pa was mad as he could be, an' dragged the 

coon to death ; 
Swore he would chop his neck right through, so 

he would lose his breath ; 



JACK KIRBVo COON 115 

But Jack he clung unto his arm, an' pa begun to 

melt. 
Because he'd been a boy hlsself, an' knowed jest 

how boys felt 
So, spite of all the argyments that Granma she 

could say. 
Jack held the fort, an' Jupiter was still allowed to 

stay. 

You 've seen some children that was raised by 
^ parents good and kind, 

1 hat was allowed to come an' go jest when they 

had a mind ; 
That when they wanted things to eat would open 

closet doors 
An' help themselves to bread an' cake or any 

other stores ; 
An' be so free an' easy, like they 's partners in 

the place. 
An' never 'lowed a sneakin' look to spoil an 

honest face ? 
1 've seen 'em an' admired 'em, for they always 

made me feel 
There's young folks growin' up as don't know 

what it is to steal. 
An' then again, I 'low you've seen some little 

folks too scared 
To speak above a whisper, an' that never would 

have dared 
To hint that they was hungry when the things 

was put away, 



116 JACK KIRBY'S COON 

For fear their kind mama would box their ears for 
bein' gay ; 

But when their ma had skipped out to a neigh- 
bor's 'cross the street, 

Them little kids would rummage for some things 
that they could eat ; 

They'd do it in a manner that was so exceedin' 
sly 

'Twas calculated to deceive their ma's most prac- 
ticed eye — 

A little lump o' sugar, or a tiny slice o' cake, 

A little this, a little that— whatever they could 
take 

Of things to ease that gnawin' pain, without their 
ma's perceivin*; 

An' so they growed up little thieves, all lyin' an' 
deceivin'. 

An' had a sort o' hunted look, expectin' all the 
time 

To be surprised an' punished for committin' some 
big crime. 

But Jupe was not a human, so it would be 
hardly fair 

To class him with the children of a too partickler 
pair ; 

An' yet he seemed to know that they was watch- 
in' him right close. 

An' waitin' for a chance to give him jest one salty 
dose ; 

So he acquired a sneakin' way o' wanderin' about, 



JACK KIRBVS COON 117 

An' when they thought he was within, sometimes 

he VN as without ; 
An' when they thought he was without, of course 

he was within — 
In that respect the cat an* Jupe was very much 

akin. 
You know how sly the cat is, when it 's time to 

close the house — 
She 11 seek the darkest corner an' lay quiet as a 

mouse. 
Then sometimes Jupe would sneak upstairs, cin' 

climbin' on the bed. 
Would shut his eyes aui' curl his tail to cover up 

his head ; 
But woe unto that sleepy coon if Granma found 

him there! 
She'd take the broomstick to him an' would drive 

him frum his lair. 
Still, he was rayther obstinate, an' though he 's 

druv away, 
'Twas very like they 'd find him snuggled on the 

bed next day. 

Once Granma Kirby missed him, so she slipped 

soft up the stairs, 
A-thinkin' she could catch him on the bed all 

unawares ; 
But no, the bed was vacant, an' it had no holler 

place, 
So, if the critter 'd been there, it had gone an' 

lef no trace, 



irS JACK KIRBY'S COON 



An' for a moment Granma thought she M lost the 

trail complete. 
An* with a sigh she *<J jest begun to beat a sad 

retreat, 
When, noticin* a bureau drawer was open rayther 

wide. 
She peeped within, an* seen the coon, all snuggled 

up, inside ! 

My, my! What wicked thoughts then come 

in Granma Kirby*s head ! 
At first she thought to shut the drawer an' starve 

him till he 's dead ; 
But fearin' Jack would find him an' would set the 

critter free. 
She set her mind to kill the thing, an' that right 

suddenly. 
So then she tiptoed down the stairs, into the settin' 

room, 
To git the deadly poker for the little rascal's doom. 
She stuck the poker in the fire until the p'int was red. 
An' then she tiptoed up the stairs, as light as she 

could tread. 
She crep' up to the open drawer, an' held the 

poker firm. 
Then socked it down into the coon, so quick he 

did n't squirm ! 
Again she prodded, an' again that red-hot poker 

went 
Clean through the hide of Jupiter, an' raised an 

awful scent. 



JACK KIRBrS COON 1 19 

It was the hatred that for weeks had burned in 

Gramma's soul. 
Went with the strength of her right arm down in 

each sizzling hole I 

The smell o* bumin* hide an' fur aroused Jack's 

ma, an* she 
Run up the stairs, two at a time, to see what 

wrong could be. 
Had Granma set her clo'es on fire, an' was that 

her a-bumin'? 
The thought o' that near set her wild, till in the 

bedroom turnin* 
She seen her standin' in a cloud, a poker in her 

hand, 
A-lookin* like she's on the stage, theatrical an' 

grand. 
"Why, ma !" she cried ; "what 's wrong ?" an' then 

her heart become like lead. 
Because she thought that Granma had entirely 

lost her head. 
"Elmiry Ann," said Granma, in a voice of 

tragic tones, 
"Elmiry Ann ! I 've killed him ! I have pierced 

him to the bones !" 
"Killed him ! Killed who?" Elmiry shrieked, an' 

stepped into the room, 
A-tryin' hard to see who's killed in that 'ere 

smoky gloom. 
"Why, Jupe, the omry sneakin' coon !" Elmiry 

closeter stepped. 



120 JACK KIRBY'S COON 

"I catched him in your bureau drawer, an' killed 

him while he slept !" 
"Not Jupe !" Elmiry Ann exclaimed, "He 's with 

Jack in the shed. 
O ma ! You thought you 'd killed poor Jupe, 

an' burnt my muff instead !" 
An' then Elmiry raised the muff, an' held it up to 

view. 
An' seen the awful places where the poker had 

gone through ; 
Then down upon the floor she dropped, an' 

shook like one gone daft. 
An' looked upon the muff, an' screamed, an' 

shoo'i, an' cried an' laughed. 
While Granma Kirby marched downstairs, as 

solemn as could be. 
So dreadful aggravated that she wouldn't take no 

tea; 
An' frum that very hour it seemed she lost her 

appetite, 
An' sort o' pined away, an' talked about sad 

things at night, 
Suggestin' where she'd like to have her body laid 

at rest. 
Until Jack's pa an' ma an' all begun to be dis- 
tressed. 

Then one day Jupe was missin' ; though he 
hunted high an' low. 
Jack couldn't find a trace of him, an' he was filled 
with woe. 



JACK KIRBY'S COON 121 



His ma said likely Jupe had gone back to the 

woods to roam. 
As was quite nat'ral for all beasts, they like to be 

at home. 
Jack suffered great affliction, but his youth soon 

pulled him through, 
While Granma Kirby brightened up, an' reelly 

cheerful grew. 
But what become of that 'ere coon, there *s only 

one can tell, 
A.n all his friends declare Jack's pa can keep a 

secret well. 



122 RUBAIYAT OF THE TURKEY 



RUBAIYAT OF THE TURKEY 

THOU Barnyard Tyrant, proudly strutting now, 
Make what thou can'st of passing Time, for 
thou 
Art marked for my Thanksgiving Sacrifice, 
And to the Block thine own haught Block must 
bow. 

The farewell Gobble soon shall leave thy Throat, 
Thinned down into a Promissory Note. 

And then thine ancient Foe, the Cat, will come, 
And o'er thy gory Head will muse and gloat. 

And, having lost thy Head, thou 'It lose thy Tail, 
And Pinions, too ; then will the Knife assail 
Thine Understanding, severing thy Legs, 
Just at the Height to which they 're wont to scale. 



RUBAIYAT OF THE TURKEY 123 

So, pulled and scraped when thou shouldst be at 

Rest, 
Eviscerated, trussed — as if in Jest, 

The Perpetrator of this Deed will say. 
When thou art naked, thou art fully dressed. 

Nor yet a decent Burial is thine ; 

Into the Oven thou 'It be turned at Nine, 

Thine hollowed Carcass filled with strange 
Conceits, 
There to remain until 'tis Time to dine. 

The Guests are gathered round the genial Board, 
The Words of Praise from thankful Hearts out- 
poured ; 
The banquet Door is opened, and appears 
The Cook, triumphant o'er the Barnyard Lord. 

What gracious Odors then shall fill the Air ! 
What sniftings from the Guests all gathered there ! 

What exclamations of Delight and Praise ! 
What gay green Garnishments thy Corpse will 
wear ! 

Then shall the Host employ the various Arts 
Of Culture Physical, to carve thy Parts, 

And send them round the Table, piece by Piece, 
With Condiments procured from various Marts. 

Thy Darkness mingled strangely with the Light, 
Thy Drumsticks tuneless. Wings in wayward Flight, 

Thy Liver and thy Gizzard far apart — 
Majestic Bird, reduced to cruel Plight! 



124 RUBAIYAT OF THE TURKEY 

'TIs sad to think that thou, so proud and vain, 
For Man's Rejoicing must so foul be slain ; 

Yet, what, without thee, were this Glorious 
Day? 
How else could Thanks be rendered half so plain ? 

So, as I said a while ago. Strut on, 

Thou Barnyard Gobbler ! For eftsoons, anon. 

Thou shalt be gobbled, and thy Kith and Kin 
Will wonder to what Bourne thou can'st have 
gone. 



NIIV^ROD 125 



NIMROD 

AND it's O for the feel of an old pair of shoes, 
Well worn at the heel and bulged out at 
the side, 
With a slouchy old coat that a tramp would refuse. 
And a hat that my better half long has decried ! 
Then it 's off to the hill 
For the wild lust to kill, 
Has enslaved me and drags ms about at its will. 

And it's woe to the quail and the scared cotton-tail ! 
And it's woe to the squirrel that perches on 
high! 
For I 'm off to the hill on the hunter's lone trail. 
With a smile on my lip, but with blood in my 
eye! 
Up the hill and down dale 
i will follow the trail, 
And return with my game wadded up in a bale ! 

Oh ! r m Nimrod the Great ! But I don't hunt in 
state, 
W^ith a pack of loud yelpers to rout out the game ; 
I depart before breakfast, get back rather late. 
And so I preserve without trouble my fame ; 
For my neighbors all know 
That a long time ago 
I returned wUh a couple of squirrels or so. 



126 PRESERVED SUNSHINE 



PRESERVED SUNSHINE 

WHEN there 's gladness in the air. 
Look without ! 
When the days are passing fair. 
Look without! 
Meadow, orchard, hill and vale 
Yellow road and woodland trail. 
Babbling brook and crimson tree. 
All the glad things that you see — 
Let their beauty not depart 
'Till it saturate your heart ! 
Look without! 

When the golden days are past, 

Look within ! 
When the sky is overcast, 

Look within ! 
Overhaul the garnered store, 
And the precious wealth outpour ! 
Spread the sunshine and perfume 
Of the heart upon the gloom ! 
You will banish dreary days 
If you will, with earnest gaze, 

Look within ! 



A FANTASY 127 



A FANTASY 

IN love we cease to live; our lives — 
Or what we call our lives — become 
Regardless of the walls and gyves 
That make our living burdensome. 

Free as the air, with each caress 

We higher fly, and far below 
The misty earth grows less and less, 

While Love's domains still broader grow. 

Thus doth the subtle Fancy run, 
Till Love, its leader, fly away ; 

Then, back to where all was begun — 
To walls, and gyves, and living clay. 

Oh, then, when Love has gained the heart, 
Guard well the gate for fear he fly ; 

For rather than let him depart, 
It would be well for thee to die. 



128 NOTHING IN VAIN 



NOTHING IN VAIN 

EVERY mortal has a mission ; 
No one lives in vain ; 
Though we die before ambition 
Tastes the pleasure of fruition. 
Though vv^e toil with pain. 

Every flower, from its fetter 

Bursting glad and free. 
Helps all nature to look better. 
Makes the world to it a debtor, 

Though it barren be. 

All the world may seem a jumble, 

Yet we' re moving on ; 
What though now and then we stumble 
It is foolishness to grumble ; 

Bid your cares begone ! 

You' re a part of this creation — 

Do the best you can ! 
Though you have an humble station, 
Win the honest estimation 

Of your fellow man ! 



AUb 13 1907 



